


When the Lights Fail

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gunshot, Nonsense, Power Outage, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 23:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12945996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: Happy manages to get shot on the job but it's "just a flesh wound!"





	When the Lights Fail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScribeShan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeShan/gifts).



> For Shan, who has kept me sane and helped me in a million ways over the hardest months of my life. My dear, you helped me save my sanity. Thank you <3

 “She WHAT?!” Toby shouts. He’s loud enough that it jolts Patrick out of his focus on the bike.

“It doesn’t look that bad –”

“Paige, you just told me my wife got shot. I’ll be at the garage in,” he checks his watch, does a quick calculation for how far he is from the garage, “eighteen minutes, assuming traffic. Get her there.”

 Patrick’s concern, layered with fear, is plain as day. “Happy got…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

 “She’s going to be okay,” Toby says. “If it was really bad, they would be taking her straight to the hospital.” In his mind he’s pretty sure she should be going to the hospital, but he’s not going to say that to Patrick. “It’s probably nothing,” he lies.

 “Should – should I come?”

 He’s about to say yes, but then he realizes that, if this is bad, Toby can’t worry about Patrick while healing Happy.

 “I get it,” Patrick says, a small smile. “You’ve got her health.” He nods. “I’ve got her bike.”

 “Thanks for the help,” Toby says. “She’s going to be so excited. This is the best present we could have come up with.”

 Patrick gives Toby a quick clap on the back and sends him on his way, adding, “Take care of my girl!”

 “Always,” Toby calls back.

 He pulls into the garage earlier than expected, and he knows Happy will be through the door in no time at all. In the five minutes between him getting there and Happy coming in, he’s run through all possibilities.

 And then he hears the front door open.

 Toby rushes to Happy’s side, nearly sliding across the floor. “Are you okay?” he asks, trying to conceal the shaking in his voice. He turns to Cabe. “Is she okay?”

 “I’m fine,” Happy grumbles, sitting up and glaring at Cabe. “Grandpa here just made me sit down.”

 “Yeah,” Toby says, “because you got a bullet in your leg!”

 “Flesh wound,” Happy argues, shrugging like getting shot is a day to day situation.

 “Oh, I’m sorry,” he feigns shame, “I didn’t know you had a degree from Harvard Med.”

 “No, my degree is from the University of Shut the Fuck Up,” Happy snaps back. “It grazed me. It’s nothing. Chill out.”

 Toby turns to Cabe. “Yeah, okay, maybe she’s gonna be fine.”

 She shoots him a rather unnecessary glare from the wheelchair and makes her way over to her desk. “Worst part of this is I can’t keep working in that damned machine.” She glares down at her leg

 “I’ll mend you while you give them the instructions,” Toby says. He walks over to Happy. “They can get it done with you over here.”

 Happy looks hesitant, as she always does when someone else is tasked with doing her job. She shifts and then winces, something that would be invisible to anyone but him.

 “Let me take a look?”

 “After I get set up over here,” Happy says. In a flash, she’s got the mic and speakers going on the computer, changing her com from her ear to the computer with some kind of key strokes Toby still can’t figure out. “You all there?”

“We’re here,” comes Walter in Toby’s ear, and in front of him from the speakers. He gets a horrible image of a Walter clone and makes a mental note to stall any and all research that could lead to that.

 “I can walk you through the installation,” Happy explains, “but make sure none of you break my gear. I’d have to kill you, and then take your money to replace it.”

 “Let the doctor help you,” Cabe says, staring at her. “Seriously. It’s not terrible, but it’s a hell of a bleeder.”

 “Oh, delightful,” Toby says with a sigh. “You’re bleeding, and your leg isn’t elevated.”

“Give me – ”

 “Leg on the table,” Toby instructs.

Happy raises an eyebrow, and Toby knows she’d say what she’s thinking if Cabe wasn’t still in the room.

“I, uh,” Cabe begins, “I gotta get back there. Help out. Stuff.” He turns and leaves.

“You just scared Cabe with your naughty eyebrow,” Toby says, trying to chastise. “That was rude.” He pulls at her pant leg. “How did this happen again?”

Happy glares at her computer screen, typing up the instructions. “Walter,” she grumbles.

Toby tries not to laugh. “Okay, details?”

“Hold on,” Happy replies. “Guys? Walter? Paige?” Nothing. “Damn it. Coms are down. Anyway, Mr. Genius decided he couldn’t wait the eight seconds before I set up the lantern, so he –”

“Wait, lantern?” Toby asks. He looks up from her leg. “Why would you need a lantern?”

Happy turns to him. “You missed the storm on its way?”

Toby blinks. “Storm?”

She rolls her eyes. “Thunder and lightning? Pouring rain?” She rolls her eyes. “And they say you’re a genius.”

He decides not to respond, mainly because if he talks he might let it slip that she was right and this wound isn’t actually as bad as it looks.

“Anyway, Walter reached for the lantern to turn it on when the power shut out, and jostled the plant manager who managed to freak out and discharge his gun.”

“Why the hell do they let corporate goons into the real work?” Toby sighs. “Or give them weapons.”

 “Apparently he refused to listen to us when we explained it was a software issue and not a hack,” Happy explains. “Insisted that he ‘bring protection.’ Like I’m not scary enough.”

 Toby groans. “Oh, because Big Mr. Genius Boss couldn’t have a failed machine.” She smiles at him. “And, you know, you would be scary enough. I’ve seen the size of your wrenches.”

Happy raises her eyebrow. “Okay, now that sounds worse than my naughty eyebrow.”

Toby shrugs. “I’m not going to argue with that one.  Now hold still while I take a look at this.”

He’s still angry at Cabe for not driving Happy directly to the hospital, but, as he elevates Happy’s leg into his lap and gets a really good look at it he realizes it’s just a scratch with a bit more blood than normal. Even the wheelchair was an overreaction.

“You’re quiet,” says Happy, pausing between instructions to Walter and Paige. “You’re only quiet when you know you’re wrong about something.”

Toby doesn’t reply, and only looks up when Happy starts chuckling lightly.

“Just admit it. I was right,” she grins down at him. “It’s not that bad.”

He doesn’t want to concede. And yet…“You’re right. It’s just a flesh wound. But it bled pretty badly because you still managed to get shot on what was supposed to be a nothing mission.”

“Hey, I’ve got a knack for almost dying on nothing missions,” Happy replies. “This is an improvement from those times I’ve nearly drowned or frozen or –”

Toby holds up the hand not wrapping Happy’s leg. “Okay. I hear you. Still, stop getting hurt. It’s becoming emotionally taxing.”

“You’re emotionally taxing,” Happy replies with a grumble, but she takes the time to squeeze his hand.

“Okay, guys, we’re back,” Walter says. “This storm is getting bad. How much longer on this, Happy?”

“If I was there?” she begins. “Ten minutes, maximum. But you guys are there without me, so I’ll cap it at forty minutes.”

“We’re not that inept,” Paige replies.

“None of you are inept. You’re just not as good as me,” Happy replies. It takes everything Toby’s got to keep from laughing – in Happy’s mind, that was the kindest and most comforting thing she could have said. To most people it would have been an insult.

“Just – give us the instructions.” Paige sounds exasperated, and Toby can only imagine why.

With a bandaged leg, Happy gives the instructions, and Toby texts Patrick the news that all is well.

And then –

“Well shit,” Happy sighs from somewhere in the dark. "Guys? Guys?" She sighs. "It's all out."

“Why don’t we have a generator?” Toby asks, using his phone as a flashlight. “We are a whole goddamn building of geniuses and none of us thought about a generator after all this time.”

“Our boss is too cheap,” Happy replies. "He'd have to actually go out and buy the damned thing. Plus, usually the power only goes out when none of us are here."

Toby glances over out the window, where the dark grey of the storm is slowly fading into a menacing black. "How lucky are we."

Something bonks into him, and it takes a second to realize it's Happy, off her balance and half blind in the dark.

“Ow?”

“I didn’t know you were over here,” Happy says. “God, was that your shoulder?”

“That was my sternum, which, again, ow,” Toby replies. "Are you reconsidering my suggestion that you get glasses?"

"Nobody needs night vision!" Happy argues. 

“You think we can fix this?”

“Doubt it,” Happy replies. “Probably out all over town. And probably out with the team.”

“I hope the others are okay," Toby says.

"Oh, they're fine," Happy says, "they have a lantern."

There's a few minutes of Happy bustling around behind Toby as he clears the path to the breaker.

"Don't crash into the -" There's a dull thud. "And that, Toby, was the couch."

He grumbles something back to her, intentionally incoherent, and finally gets to the breaker.

"Any chance we could find the ladder in this darkness?" Toby asks.

Happy sighs. "Finding it? Easy - back closet. But that door isn't going to open - Walter's got some weird patent going on and locked it in there with one of my digital locks. When the power goes out, the door can't be opened." She frowns. "That was to prevent a break in, not wreck us in a power outage."

"Usually I like your inventions, but this one annoys me," Toby replies.

Happy walks over to the breaker and stops, and Toby waits in the darkness.

"You good?" he asks from right behind her.

“I can’t reach,” Happy grumbles, "and you know that."

“Aw,” Toby says, “you’re so tiny.”

“Shut up and help,” Happy replies. “I need a lift.”

“You mean – are you asking me to pick you up?”

He can tell that Happy’s turned to him because a strand of her hair hits him in the face. “Do you know how to reset this breaker in pitch darkness?”

“Sadly,” Toby replies, “Harvard did not teach me that.” But he doesn’t tease her much longer. With care to protect her leg, he lifts her and settles her on his shoulder. There's some clicking and clanking as she fiddles with the breaker, and then she taps his shoulder.

"Nope," she says with a sigh. "It's out all over the place."

Their next step is to call the team, but the coms are down and their cell phones won't connect.

"Probably on their end," Happy decides. "They were pretty deep in there.

Toby tries a few texts, but none of them mark as read.

“Yep,” she says, “definitely not going to work." She stumbles and bumps into Toby.

"We need flashlights."

He raises an eyebrow he knows she can't see. "That's an astute observation. I have a couple up in the crawl space. Help me get up."

"Again?" Toby whines. "One of us is going to get hurt."

"Already happened today," Happy replies. He can hear that self satisfied smile on her face, the one she gets when she's right and she knows it.

"Ugh, fine, be right." He finds himself helping Happy get up into the crawl space, unsafely, if he might add, and he starts to hear thunks. He looks up to see a flashlight balanced precariously on the precipice.

 “That’s going to fall.”

“That’s fine. It’s reinforced,” Happy replies. “They're heavy duty.”

“Why would you need a heavy duty –” There’s a crash. “Oh. That’s why.”

“Nobody in this garage is graceful enough to be trusted with delicate equipment in the dark,” she adds. “Well. Maybe me and Ralph.”

"Judging from what I just heard, I think it's just Ralph.

All he hears in response is rustling and a little bit of crunching. Just enough to make him worry that his genius wife is doing something unbelievably foolish again, but after a few seconds he hears a couple more crashes.

"Please tell me those were flashlights."

"They were."

By the time Happy's thrown three flashlights down, Toby's eyes have adjusted and he can see vague shapes and shadows around.

"I'll put one in the bathroom and you put this one by the door," Happy says. "Hold onto the third one - I don't want you hurting yourself on the couch again."

"I'm sorry, which one of us got shot today?"

"That was Walter's fault and we both know it."

Toby's not going to argue when he wasn't there, but he's pretty sure it's the gun's fault.

He does, though, in the end make it to the couch without hurting himself, and Happy follows soon after.

"Surprised you didn't turn the flashlight off on me," Happy quips. She cuddles in next to him.

"Nope, get that leg elevated," Toby scolds. "Come on. Up it goes."

It takes a minute due to darkness, discomfort, and Happy intentionally becoming dead weight just to annoy Toby, but finally he gets her leg at a level above her heart, gets himself comfortable on the couch, and she's flattening his arm as she lay next to him.

It's his favorite place in the world.

They check their phones and coms constantly, but nothing's coming through, nobody's answering, and Happy drains Toby's battery too quickly by reading inaccurate facts on crowdsourced internet pages.

"This one says that our plane crash included three women and two children," Happy laughs. "And that one of the women and one of the children stayed behind for some social experiment." She sighs. "God, I love conspiracy theorists. They get the easy stuff right and the hard stuff wrong."

"What easy stuff?" Toby asks, playing with Happy's hair and letting his eyes fall shut. "That there are contractors working with the government that frequently overlook certain laws or agreements with foreign nations?"

"Yeah, that one," Happy replies. "Shit. Your phone's dead."

"Yeah, saw that one coming. You got way too into that website about the origins of the space program."

"They were so wrong about the engine it's charming," she replies.

It's only five minutes with the phones dead when - "Ugh, I'm bored," Happy whines.  
"It's been half an hour of no power," says Toby. "Seriously, you have no attention span."

"Just because you entertain yourself by writing the DSM-Curtis. You mumble about diagnoses."

Toby grins. "You listen when I do my psycho-babble?"

There's a pause. "No."

"Yes, you do," he giggles. "Wow, you really do love me."

"If I didn't I wouldn't have married you, dummy," Happy replies. She nudges him with her shoulder. "Now, we have the entire garage with no power, no people, nothing to bother us. What on earth should we do?"

"I've got an idea."

~

"God, you two are already an old married couple and it hasn't even been a year."

Toby's eyes open slowly to see the rest of the team standing in front of them, wearing ponchos and rain boots but, other than that, unaffected by the storm. "Power's back on," he says, more of a string of syllables than true words.

"No duh," Happy mumbles, "now stop moving so I can go back to sleep."

"You guys have a good nap?" Paige asks. "One of you drooled on the other and it wasn't Toby."

Toby looks down at his shirt to see a small puddle, right where Happy had leaned against him. "Oh, yeah. That happens."

Cabe smiles at them. "Well, hold onto this while you can. The second you get a kid into the mix you'll be lucky for eight minutes of sleep, let alone napping on the job."

"In that case, we're just building up our sleep surplus," Happy replies. "Plus, I had to elevate my leg, and then I was comfortable. So then I -"

"Drooled on Toby," Sylvester interrupts. "We can see that."

With an eye roll, Happy moves her leg, wincing. "Okay, that's a little uncomfortable."

"You got shot," Walter replies, "what did you expect?"

Happy gives him her standard eye roll and gets up, gingerly putting weight on her leg until she's balanced. "I can walk, though. And clearly you guys got out alive."

"No thanks to you," Sylvester replies. "You guys never turned the system back on."

"You were fine," Happy replies.

"I almost got sucked into a sewer system," Paige argues, but Happy raises one eyebrow and points to her leg, and Paige gives her a shrug. "Okay, you got shot. You win this time."

"I usually wouldn't call it winning," Happy says, "but I got to nap on the job, so, yeah, kind of a win."


End file.
